Maitimo
by Liek
Summary: Drabbles and short stories. Maedhros POV.
1. Chapter 1

For those who do not know it: Maitimo Meadhros, Macalaure Maglor,  
Ambarto & Ambarussa Amrod & Amras and Earendil's sons: Elrond and  
Elros.. duh...

* * *

_Maitimo

* * *

_

"Maitimo…" The sad sound of the hesitating voice cut through his rage, it removed the red haze in front of his eyes, and it turned the world back into its colorless grey.  
"Macalaure." The answer sounded short, cold and heartless, and he did not recognize his own voice.

"They are twins, Maitimo..."

"I know." He knew why his hand had hesitated. The faces looking up to him were painfully alike. Like two other faces that where lost to them forever, that would never look up again…

"Ambarto… Ambarussa…" His brother spoke the words that were on his mind also.  
The faces of the two children changed, their hair turned red like his.

"I know." How could a voice so heartless now sound so soft?

"Oh Maitimo, what are we to do?" His brother's voice was a mere whisper.

"I do not know." his voice sounded raw, broken. His world had changed; it had lost its color, its beauty…  
Fire had consumed it all.

He dropped his blade and stared at Eärendil's sons once more.

How was he to know what to do?  
Was it not proven he made mistakes?  
Was it NOT proven?

"I do not know, Macalaure…You decide."

* * *

Liek (and thanks to Niniel for being both my beta and my twin)


	2. Lost Innocence

Macalaure: Maglor  
Pityo: Amrod  
Telvo: Amras

_**Lost Innocence**_

The ships are ours.

The door back to Middle Earth is open now, we are one step closer to the defeat of Morgoth, the thief that stole the Silmarils and the life of my grandfather.

We are one step closer to doing what we have sworn to do.

Below the deck my father is celebrating, a feast for all of his sons, though only three of them showed up.

* * *

Macalaure did not sing today. He did not sing of our victory like father had requested to, nor did he lament to ones that died like I expected him to. 

I miss his voice...

Buthis voice is not the only one I miss.

The twins, usually loud and cheerful, ever present, always annoying, laughing wherever they go, have not spoken since dawn.  
It is quiet without their constant bickering. So quiet.  
Like death.

* * *

I found Pityo hanging over the rail, sick, but not of the sea.  
Telvo was not with him. 

It was strange to see the one without the other, when they were always together before, always acting in a way that made you belief they were one instead of two. For the day they where born..  
I had thought them to be each other's mirror images forever.  
I would have thought they would be together on the day they lost their innocence.

But then again…

Would I dare to look into a mirror today?  
Would I have the courage to face myself?

* * *

The ships are ours. 

And since I am Feanor's son, I suppose I should join my father, to drink and forget all I have seen today.  
To drink and remember we have won much by gaining them.

To drink and forget we lost so much more.


	3. Storm

_MaitimoMaedhros, MacalaureMaglor_

_Storm _

Two little red-haired children sat beside each other. They didn't talk, they didn't move, they hardly breathed, they stayed completely silent as the storm raged over their heads.  
One of them was biting his lip, the corners of the other's mouth were slightly twisted, and Maitimo knew that as soon as the storm had blown over; as soon as the danger had passed, the two of them could laugh and shout again, loud enough to make up for this lost time.  
Maitimo gave the two of them an encouraging smile.  
They were still so very young, it was a miracle they understood at all.

But then again, the young ones too, lived in this house. Anyone who lived in this house understood, no matter how young they were.  
The fair-haired one, kneeling beside his dog to keep him from barking, the dark-haired ones sitting beside him, one pretending he was writing still, though his ink had run dry three lines ago and he still had not noticed, the other simply staring angrily ahead, arms crossed in front of his chest. They understood. Even though the looks that passed between the three of them were angry as well as scared, and Maitimo had to shake his head.  
Do not move even though you are angry.  
Do not move even though you are scared.  
There is nothing you can do.

He looked aside to the one who understood it best of all. The dark-haired one that sat beside him with his fingers in his ears, humming a song so softly only he could hear. Macalaure had closed his eyes, and retreated into himself.  
He endured the storm like a stone endured the rain, without breaking, without moving, going on forever as if it did not even exist.

Like their mother did.

And yet, each time the storm moved over them, each time the fire burned, a small piece of her, a small piece of him, a layer on the outside, too small to be seen, would disappear forever.  
Each time the storm blew their defences would weaken.

Maitimo stared at their mother, who had endured the storm for too long.  
He could almost see her disappearing, her shelter was washed away and each flash of lighting touched her core.  
He could see how the fire slowly became too much for her to bear.

He could see how the hurricane would tear their family apart.  
And yet they would not leave him. The storm would rage over their heads forever, but they would not turn away from it. They would not take shelter.

Though, in end, the storm's fire might consume them all, they would never stop loving him.

He was their father after all.


End file.
